In the dark of the Night
by MumbledScreams
Summary: The Slender Man is a being, initially human like, who's never been seen up close before. He takes children, and they become the 'Lost One's', or the 'Slender Children.' Abby challenges the Slender Man to a game. If she wins, her and her sister go free. She loses, she becomes a 'Slender Child.'
1. Chapter 1

Amelia Pearson smiled sleepily at her playing children. She lived on a farm, and her husband was busy, getting all the cattle in order. She was not one for hard work. She preferred to do the cooking. In a way, her and her family were very old fashioned.

She had soft blond hair, and tanned skin, but that was due to her large amount of time dozing away in the sun. Her pale blue eyes were friendly, and she gave off a warm persona. Her children, Leon, Arthur, Percy, Abigail and Mary all ranged between 16, and 5, Leon being 16, Arthur and Percy were 14 (and a half, as they proudly reminded everyone), Abigail being 8, and Mary being 5.

Leon was out with friends, having had an argument with his Father earlier in the day, and stubbornly riding out to town to vent with his friends. Amelia sighed. Leon was so unlike his father. His father was a 'man's man' and believed that men ought to be doing hard work, like being a mechanic, or a farmer, or a police officer. None of this 'art crap' as Roger Pearson (Amelia's husband) put it.

Leon, however, was set on becoming a graphic designer.

That was Leon's passion. Art. He wanted to be the next Picasso, or the next Van Gogh.

Although the two men, Roger and Leon (Amelia already considered her boy a man), looked alike in appearance, they were as different as different could be. They both had dark brown hair, and hazel coloured eyes. Broad shouldered, narrow waist, and a toned physique due to the long hours spent working out on the farm.

Arthur and Percy were the next Weasely twins. They were both mischevious, and God forgive her, were 'devilish little bastards at time,' as Amelia often muttered under her breath after their latest pranks. They both had Amelia's blond hair and their father's hazel eyes. They were also tanned, and were beginning to develop their father's physique. Both were thin, and strong, from hefting hay onto the back of the truck.

They had no idea what they wanted be yet, and Amelia and Roger accepted that. 14 (and a half) was too young to be deciding what you wanted to be.

Abigail (or Abby) was top of the class, and wise beyond her years. The 8 year old spoke like a 50 year old. She had wide, intelligent blue eyes, and a calm exterior. Amelia sometimes worried about her child's seriousness. But, the girl knew how to lighten up, too. Something Amelia was eternally glad for. Her blond haired angel would laugh, and giggle like an immature 8 year old, and Amelia would forget that Abby had a serious nature.

Mary was adorable. The dark haired girl had cheeky eyes that only little kids can get away with. She always wore her curly hair in two plaits, probably the only reason her hair was curly. She had one hazel coloured eye, and one blue eye. Amelia had worried about her baby girl being bullied at school because of it, but the first day of primary school had come and gone, and she had no problems.

Mary and Abby were playing now. Abby adored Mary, after an initial resentment of her. Arthur and Percy were playing not far away, tossing a ball to each other. It was a warm Saturday afternoon, and Amelia was tired. Roger was out, feeding the cattle or something. That was his way of venting. Go out on the farm and work off your rage.

Amelia closed her eyes, and there she drifted off, something she would come to regret.

As the shadows began to lengthen a strange sense came over the yard. Arthur and Percy straightened. A chill seemed to sweep over the yard, despite it being the middle of summer. Abby was quiet, and she too stood. Mary giggled in delight, as she caught a butterfly. Noticing her siblings silence, she too quietened, and saddened, let go of the butterfly, believing she had caused it.

She thought Abby, Arthur and Percy had gone quiet because Mary had caught the butterfly, and she knew how much her siblings loved butterflies.

But that wasn't the cause.

"Mummy?" Abby whimpered. Their mother was fast asleep, almost as if she were dead.

"What's hap- happening?" Mary asked, struggling to get her mouth around the big word.

"Something's out there," Arthur said, his voice detached.

"It's cold," Percy whispered in fear.

"What is it?" Mary asked, annoyed at being left out. Little did she know, to be left out would be being saved, from a fate far worse than her siblings being annoyed at her catching a butterfly.

To be left out, would to ultimately guarantee her life.

"We don't know," Abby whispered, her young, usually so calm and strong voice guaranteed.

"Why won't Mummy wake up?" Mary asked. Her childish innocence would soon dissipate over the hours.

"I don't know," Arthur said, his voice still distant, his eyes glazed over. Being the oldest (by a whole minute and a half), he felt some degree of responsibility. But he had a nagging suspicion as to what it was. He had heard the rumours.

Rumours of a strange being. A strange being that took young children, and slaughtered anything mercilessly that got in its way. He glanced first to his twin, Percy, and felt his stomach clench. His twin and he were too old for this being.

The two would be slaughtered. Slaughtered without remorse or even a flicker of emotion.

Then he glanced at Abby and Mary, who were huddling closer together. They would be taken.

His mother? She was asleep, and something told Arthur that this was no natural sleep. This sleep was brought on by the strange coldness sweeping over him and his siblings. This coldness that penetrated the bones, freezing one's insides.

But, weren't they just rumours? Just stories? All fiction, no fact? Arthur tried to reason with himself. It wasn't true.

Except, as his heart hammered violently in his chest, beating against his ribcage, like an out of rhythm drum, he knew it couldn't be anything else.

He glanced back to Percy, and knew that his twin was thinking the same thing.

"We won't let it take them," Arthur murmured.

"Not without a fight," Percy growled.

"Won't let what take who?" Mary whined.

"Shh, keep quiet," Abby hushed.

"Go try and wake Mum," Percy ordered.

"Why?" Mary cried.

"Just do it," Arthur said, his voice slightly harsher than he had intended.

"I'll go grab Dad's golf set," Percy offered.

"Find his shotgun, if you can," Arthur told him, scooping up the ball and the bat, he had lying out the front. In the distance, he could only just make out the figure of a vaguely human being, suspended on long, tentacle like things. The most definitive thing about the vague silhouette was the crimson red tie that could be seen. The rest appeared blurred whereas this stood out, almost like a beacon.

Arthur refused to turn his back on the being.

He knew what would happen. Mary and Abigail would be taken.

Taken, never to return.

And him?

Ice cold fear flooded through his veins, and for a moment he felt he would go insane, from the sheer adrenaline rush.

He let his imagination get out of hand – or was that the strange being's influence?

He envisioned his bleeding corpse strewn out on the ground, partially dismembered, his bloodied arm on the other side of his lawn, his shredded index finger lying halfway between his dismembered arm, and the gory scene of his body.

His eyes flew wide open, and his pupils dilated, to almost pinpricks.

In that moment, before what little remained of his sanity was completely torn apart, he heard three words whispered in his ear.

The slender man.


	2. Chapter 2

Percy rounded the corner of the house, and he saw his twin, whom he loved so dearly, kneeling in the grass, laughing hollowly. It was the laugh of a mad man.

"He's come," Arthur laughed, over and over again. Percy felt as if his stomach was being held in the tight embrace of an angry fist, that was squeezing and pulling it. He felt like two claw-like hands were striving to tear it apart.

"He's come for you," Arthur laughed, turning to Amelia and Mary, stretching out the word you. Abby burst into tears right then.

Mary was already crying, but she had enough common sense not to wail aloud.

Tears streamed down the faces of the two girls, and in shock, Percy realised down his cheeks as well.

Arthur laughed continuously. His empty laugh echoed through the clearing where their home, their only supposed safe place in this big cruel world, was built.

Home.

What did that even mean anymore? Percy thought to himself. This wasn't supposed to be invaded by strange happenings that threatened the life of him and his siblings.

It was always his safe haven. When him and Arthur were being bullied at school, home, was where he got to go at the end of the day, and feel safe.

Now?

Now nowhere was safe.

Nowhere.

Percy clenched his jaw together, hardened his gaze, and pulled out his father's biggest golf club. He pulled out his father's iron, and, bracing himself, stood, ready to attack the bastard that threatened him and his family.

He turned, slowly, in an 180o circle, looking for whoever – whatever – it was.

And then, he saw, in the distance a dark silhouette of what looked like a man, held up by tentacle-like things that were latched into the ground. The only definite thing about the blurry silhouette was the bright red tie. Even from such a distance – and it must be noted that it was even closer than when Arthur saw it – Percy could make out the crimson red tie that looked almost like the colour of blood.

Weighing the iron out in his hand, he lifted it up, and bringing his arm back, aimed, and threw it.

It spun through the air, and, although he didn't see if his aim was true, he heard what seemed like an angry noise.

Percy picked up another club, he didn't take notice of what kind, and froze. It felt like his mind was being attacked.

It felt like a million spears were being jammed simultaneously into his skull, and then twisted and rammed through his head.

He saw his mother, her abused body lying strewn on the floor, her throat slit, and her eyes gauged out. He saw his father's body lying half a meter away from his father's head. He saw Leon missing a bloodied arm, his jaw wrenched open, gushing blood. Arthur, dead, his finger and arm strewn across the yard.

Abby and Mary? They were gone, the white ribbon in Mary's ponytail stained with blood, hanging on a branch.

Percy dropped the club. He could hear people calling to him, but he didn't recognise the voices. They belonged to girls. He knew that much.

He stumbled around to the shed, his eyes glazed over as if in a trance. He had no more control.

He was gone, even further than his twin.

He stumbled out to the small shed where his father kept the guns, and pulling down his father's shotgun, loaded it, and placed the barrel of it in his mouth.

His eyes widened as he pulled the trigger. The split second between the trigger being pulled, and the bullet taking his life, he was given full control. Complete and utter control over himself.

His sanity was restored.

And in that split second, where he was no longer out of control, no longer insane, all he heard was three whispered words, echoing around inside his skull, before the bullet slammed into his skull, killing him.

The slender man.

Abigail and Mary heard the blast, before they made it to the shed. Abby gulped. She was in charge now. She had to keep her and Mary together, and alive.

Abby shielded her baby sister's eyes, as she peered into the shed.

Percy's blood was strewn across the wall, and Percy's crumpled and broken body lay in a pool of blood and gore.

Abby led Mary past the door, and out towards the back yard.

She just had to slowly make it to her Father, and she would be safe, right?

"Where are we going?" Mary whispered.

"Away. To find Daddy," Abby answered as quietly as she could, in case it could hear her.

'There's no use,' she heard a raspy voice whisper through her head. It had a malicious kind of glee to it, and she felt ice cold fear run through her.

No. she thought. I must be strong.

'Why? I'm only going to get you. In the end, you will be mine. You, and your sister,' she heard it whisper in her mind.

Abby took her sister's hand. "Don't look behind you, okay?" she whispered.

Mary nodded obediently. She had picked up on the seriousness of the situation.

There was a flash of red in the corner of Abby's eye, and she saw a blurry figure, with a crimson red tie.

It was human like, supported on tentacles reaching into the ground. That wasn't the scariest part though. It wore a suit, and looked like a human hanging limply on the tentacles, but where its face was supposed to be, there was nothing.

Simply nothing.

Just a blank area. Almost like the light around the features were sucked away, and the colours were absorbed. No shadows, just nothing.

'I am the Slender Man, and you are mine,' it whispered into their minds.

"Can we make a deal?" Abby called out desperately, feeling her mind start to go, her sanity to slip away.

'What kind of deal?' She could hear the interest in the Slender Man's voice, pausing the assault on her mind.

"We could play a game. If we win, we go free," Abby said informatively.

'And if I win?'

"What do you want if you win?"

'I want you. You and your sister,' it answered possessively. Abby shivered, but kept her calm. She felt tired, and slightly sick, staring directly were the Slender Man was.'I want you to be my Slender Children.'

"Can't Mary be left alone? She's only little," Abby argued

'The younger the better. They last longer.'

Abby shivered again. "Would we have become Slender Children even if you hadn't have agreed to this deal?" Mary asked curiously. Abby froze.

'No, little one. To become a Slender Child you must agree to it. Without this deal, you would have become a Lost One,' it sounded kind, almost, as it explained this to Mary.

"What's a lost one?" Mary asked.

'A Lost One is a child lost to me. They are the ones who are never seen again.'

"What happens to them?"

'I take them away.'

"Where to?" This time it was Abby who asked.

'Elsewhere. Do you wish to take on this deal or not?'

"What's the game?" Abby asked.

'Hide. And seek. You, young ones, must hide from me, and seek out 8 pages, drawn by 8 different Lost Ones. Each page unlocks part of your way to freedom. Meanwhile, I will hide from you, and seek you out at the same time. I will not stop you though. Only delay you. You will have until sunrise to find all 8 pages.'

"Can we leave Mary out of this?"

'She may stay here, in a motionless state, invisible to all, until one of us have won.'

Abby nodded, satisfied. The Slender Man had not moved since she had been looking at him, but now she felt a dark fog descend over her, and she fell into the fog's outstretched arms, falling asleep.

With a start, Amelia Pearson woke.


	3. Chapter 3

Amelia stared in horror at the laughing boy that vaguely resembled her son. Her beloved Arthur.

"He took them," he sung maniacally. "They're gone. You're never getting them back."

Arthur's hollow voice echoed throughout the yard, and Amelia trembled. "Arthur, where's Percy? And Abby? And Mary?"

"Look in the shed," he sung, stretching out the work 'look.' And then he laughed, his maniac laugh seemed to echo back to her, seemed to surround her. Amelia wandered around to the shed, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

Bracing herself, she peered in, and screamed.

"Percy!" she stammered, and collapsed to her knees right there.

The blasted off remains of his head were still attached to his body, although a large portion of it was splattered against the ceiling, the wall, and the floor. The gun hung out of his now disfigured jaw, and he stared up, his glazed over eyes still looked horrified, as if only just realising the severity of his actions.

Suddenly everything was silent. For a moment Amelia wondered what had happened, but then she realised she had just stopped screaming.

Amelia stumbled out of the shed, and emptied the contents of her stomach out onto their freshly cut lawn.

And still Arthur's hollow laugh echoed throughout their clearing.

"Where am I?" Mary's scared voice echoed throughout the dark room.

"You're here," what seemed like a thousand child-like voices whispered. Their voices echoed around the room, caressing the walls.

"I know that," Mary whined, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Then why did you ask?"

"Because I don't know where here is!"

"We don't either."

"Who are you?"

"We're the Lost Ones."

In front of Mary small figures appeared, and Mary squinted to see what it was. They looked human enough, but they had awful disfigurements, and where their face ought to be, there was nothing.

They approached Mary slowly, and their arms stretched out, their hands caressing her arms.

"You're so pretty," they whispered, their voices seemed to brush over her, and she cringed.

"Do you want to play with us?" they asked.

"No," Mary whispered, stepping back. Slimy tentacles seemed to wrap around her, and she screamed.

Abigail looked up at the sky, blinking slowly. It was night time. Dark clouds obscured the stars that twinkled back down to earth.

'Time to play' she heard the Slender Man whispered into her mind, his voice seeming to caress her skin. She shivered, and slowly stood up.

'All 8 pages before dawn, and you win.'

And with that, the Slender Man's eerie voice disappeared from her mind. Abby stood, and looked around. Lying at her feet was a flashlight, and she picked it up.

"How convenient," she said. She had heard that word the other week, and it was now one of her favourite words.

She flicked it on, to reveal eucalyptus trees surrounding her. They towered above her, and she looked around slowly. A wire fence with barbed wire above it was behind her, and behind it was a hill, with a building on it. She could see lights on, and was tempted to call out to them. But she knew he was watching.

She also knew her sister's life hung in the balance.

She started walking along the fence slowly turning and walking into the middle of the forest.

She heard rustling in the leaves, and her eyes flickered towards the sound. Her pulse sped up, and she felt her chest tighten.

She saw nothing. Her breathing slowed down to a reasonable pace, and she closed her eyes briefly.

She was scared. She wanted her Mummy.

Abby opened her eyes slowly, and started walking again, trying to keep calm. The darkness of the forest seemed to suffocate her, demanding her attention. It seemed to devour her, and the weak beam of light coming out of her torch.

And all the while she could feel his presence.

Although he never said anything, although when she turned and looked behind her slowly, she could feel him. It felt like his tentacles reached to her, slowly caressing her mind.

She shivered, and kept walking forward, the cool night air seeming to bite at her skin.

Presently she came towards a wide dirt path. She followed it slowly, curious.

'Don't follow the path' she heard him whisper in her mind, his voice taunting her.

Abby ignored him, and walked along the path, her wide eyes scanning the forest around her.

She swung the flashlight in a slow, wide arc in front of her as she walked, lighting up trees. In front of her a giant tree appeared. She looked up, and almost screamed. A demonic face stared down at her, laughing at her misfortune.

The large branches shook in the air, and the face laughed.

Abby closed her eyes, and hugged herself.

"It's just a tree," she whispered repeatedly.

'Is it? Is it really just a tree?' The Slender Man murmured.

"It is!" she cried, and started circling the thick tree. His voice once again withdrew from her mind.

She saw something fluttering in the wind, and realised it was a piece of paper. She ran towards it, stumbling over her own feet in her haste to get to it.

She took a step back when she saw it. A large circle was in the centre of the page, with two crosses roughly where eyes would be if it were a face.

'Watching' was written above the circle, and 'No eyes' was written below it.

Abby swallowed nervously, and she reached up to pull the piece of paper off of the tree.

'Now it gets harder,' his silken voice caressed her skin, and she felt the hairs raise along her arms.


	4. Chapter 4

"Are you joining us?" the childish voices, as their hands stroked Mary's bare arms, whispered. Mary shivered, entrapped in the cold, wet grip of the slimy tentacles.

"No!" Mary yelled. "My sister is going to save me!"

"Who's your sister? Is she joining us?"

"She's Abby, and she's playing with the Slender Man," Mary yelled. "If she wins Abby and I are going home."

The voices whispered something incoherent, and all that could be heard echoing around the dark chamber was the whispers of the Lost Ones.

And a part of Mary's sanity broke off and flew away.

Roger frowned as he drove down the driveway to his house. Arthur was kneeling in the grass, laughing.

'Why is he laughing?' Roger questioned internally. 'In the dark?'

And then his wife, Amelia stumbled around the corner of the house, clearly distraught.

Roger stopped the car, a wave of concern and fear washing over him.

"Amelia!" he called, running to her.

"P-p-percy's dead," Amelia sobbed.

"What?" Roger said, stopping mid-stride.

"Dead. He killed himself!"

Amelia flung herself into her husbands arms, almost bowling him over.

"Where are Mary and Abby? What's wrong with Arthur?"

"Mary and Abby are gone," Amelia whispered.

"Where? Gone where? Did you take them to Mum?!" Anyone could hear the desperation in Roger's strained voice. He wished for that to be all, for them to be with their Gran.

"I don't know, they've disappeared," Amelia cried.

"He's taken them," Arthur sang, finally getting off his knees. He skipped over to his parents, a wide grin plastered on his face, terrifying Roger and Amelia.

"Who?" Roger demanded, disentangling himself from his wife, and towered over his obviously crazy son.

"The Slender Man," Arthur sang. Arthur took a step towards his mother, and in terrified silence she stood there, motionless. He put his hands on her arms, and almost seemed like a comforting son for a moment.

Until he opened his mouth.

"This, is all your fault. If you hadn't have fallen asleep, none of this would have happened. It is your fault. If you hadn't have fallen asleep, Mary and Abby would be right here, right now," he whispered menacingly, still smiling, but there was something wild and desperate in his eyes, trying to communicate with his mother. "If you hadn't have fallen asleep, Percy -" his voice suddenly took on a strained, almost broken tone, "Percy would still be alive. If you hadn't have fallen asleep, I-" his voice cracked as he whispered this last sentence, stumbling over his own words, "If you hadn't have fallen asleep, I would still be sane. I would not be crazy. This, all this, is your fault."

During this, Arthur's nails had dug into his mother's arms, leaving small pin pricks of blood beginning to well up.

"That's enough, boy!" Roger yelled, pulling his son off of his wife, punching him in the jaw.

Roger felt momentary guilt, but then, as cold realisation dawned on him, this was not his son.

This was a maniacal monster.

Arthur stared up at Roger in shock. And then, as the blood began to flow down his face, he laughed.

His laugh pierced the still air, sending shivers down Roger and Amelia's spines.

Leon waved to his friends, now driving off.

They had been nice enough to drop him off at the end of the driveway, so all now he had to do was walk down the long dirt road to his. His mum would probably scold him for coming home so late, and his dad would probably grunt when he saw him, Leon reckoned.

Leon got angry just thinking about his father.

Why couldn't the old bastard just see that he wasn't going to be a man in the sense his Dad wanted him to be?

Leon took his anger out on a rock, kicking it angrily down the path.

He heard laughter as he approached the house.

Leon looked up, and frowned.

The house was dark, which was unusual. No lights were on. His Dad's ute was stalling on the side of the path, the lights still on.

"Mum? Dad?" Leon called out, seeing what looked like two people hugging and supporting one another.

"Leon!" his mother screeched, flying at him. She hugged him, and he could feel her sobbing into his chest.

"My baby, my only baby left," she whispered, stroking his hair, his cheek.

"What's going on?" Leon asked, when he saw his dad's tear-stained face. "Why's Percy laughing?"

"Arthur," Arthur corrected on the grass, grinning like a fool.

"P-p-percy," Amelia sobbed.

"What's happening?" Leon demanded.

"Percy's dead," Roger said solemnly.

"What?!" Leon yelled, stepping back, shaking his head.

"Percy shot himself," Roger said.

"Not Percy, the Slender Man," Arthur sang.

"Where's Mary?" Leon demanded. Mary was his favourite. His baby sister. "And Abby?"

"Gone," Amelia sobbed.

"Gone where?"

"They're missing."

"Have you called the police?" Leon asked, barely restraining the fear and anger.

"Just before you got here," Roger whispered. His tough façade that he had built up ever since he was a boy was crumbling, falling.

"How could this happen?" Leon asked.

"It's all her fault," Arthur said, pointing to his mother.

"What's wrong with Arthur?"

"He's not Arthur anymore. He's -" Roger started.

"He's still Arthur!" Amelia interrupted.

"Just insane," Arthur said in a sing-song voice.

"How did this happen?" Leon whispered.

"I fell asleep. When I woke up, Abby and Mary had disappeared, Arthur was like this and Percy was d-d-dead," Amelia wailed.

"No. Percy can't be dead."

"He is. He's in the shed."

Leon broke away from his mother, despite her pleas for him not to look, not to subject him to that, and ran to the shed.

He froze when he saw his brother's fallen body. Leon fell to his knees next to his little brother, next to what remained of Percy. The shed smelt of dried blood, slightly rank flesh, and piss.

"No," he whispered, placing his hand over his brother's still heart, checking for a pulse, even though he knew he wouldn't find one. He just had to look at his brother's head for confirmation. Confirmation that he would never be waking up.

His brother's body was cold to the touch and firm.

"Percy," Leon whispered, his voice cracking.

His broken voice filled the shed, despite being ever so quiet.

"Percy."


	5. Chapter 5

The cold night air bit at Abby's skin, as she wandered slowly around the forest. The Slender Man's voice and presence had disappeared completely from her mind, and it was a bittersweet blessing.

She was glad for the peace of mind it brought her, and the feeling of her own thoughts being completely private.

But, she knew she couldn't let her guard down, and she was beginning to worry about his silence. Was he playing with her, toying with her? When she felt safe, was that when he would strike?

She followed the path, and a large-ish building appeared in front of her. She frowned. What was it?

She wandered closer, slowly, cautiously. She saw a toilet sign, and sighed in relief.

She could go to the toilet here, before she wet herself.

There was only one entrance, a white tiled hallway. Abby shivered. The cold radiated off the stone tiles, much like the heat seemed to rise off of the ground in the vast Australian deserts. Only, it was the cold off of the smooth white tiles, and not the heat, nor the red dust.

It didn't occur to Abby that there was only one exit, and that the Slender Man was stalking her, following her.

'Be careful,' he murmured, as she closed the door to the girl's bathroom. Abby frowned. Be careful? She didn't think that the warning was all that necessary. She was of course being careful, or at least, that's what she thought.

Abby looked up at the bathroom door, and grinned triumphantly. There, stuck to the back of the toilet door, was a page.

Scrawled on it in grey lead was 'Don't Look… Or it takes you.'

What was it? Abby wondered to herself, feeling morbid curiousity rush through her. She hummed a little tune that her mother, Amelia, used to sing when her or her siblings had a nightmare. She couldn't remember what it was called, but it was something along the lines of "hush now baby, don't you cry, papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird, and if that mockingbird don't sing-" that was about all Abby could remember.

She remembered having a picture book with the lyrics, but it was all aliens and spaceships. Nothing her Papa could actually buy her.

Abby flushed the toilet and stuffed the page into her pocket.

'Don't forget to wash your hands,' he whispered, his voice passive-aggressive.

Abby frowned, but, like the good little girl she was, washed her hands. Twice. Just to make sure she got rid of all the 'cooties.'

She looked up into the mirror, and her vision blurred. Standing behind her was it. The page was warning her, and like the fool she was, she ignored it. Abby struggled to maintain control of herself, but she felt herself slipping away into the darkness which was slowly but surely wrapping it's arms around her in a tight embrace.

His face flashed before hers, and it was the last thing she saw.

The girl looked around her. She was in a grey room. The girl looked to be about 18, and she had blue eyes and blond hair.

"Where am I?" she asked aloud. She knew he would hear her. He always heard her. Her cruel protector, her monstrous hero.

'Where you've always been,' he answered, his voice affectionately informing her in her mind. He lingered in the dark corners of the room, and Abby smiled towards the other side of the room.

"Why did you wake me?" she asked.

'I was lonely,' was the quiet, childish reply.

"I've been sleeping for ten years now," she mused aloud.

'I know. Did you enjoy your sleep?' he asked.

"I did. I kept meeting the same man in my dreams. He was tall, and always wore a suit with a crimson tie," she answered. What sounded like a sharp intake of breath came from where her guardian stood.

'And what did he look like?' his voice caressed her mind, a dark curious undercurrent to it.

"I don't know. Whenever I tried to look into his face the dream would change," the girl paused and thought for a moment. "Why did you really wake me?"

He was silent.

Abby woke, and looked around her. "Where am I?" she asked herself.

'You have to start again,' she heard his voice inform her.

Again? Abby thought, as panic bubbled to the surface. She stuffed the flashlight in her pocket and began to run to where she thought the toilet block was. She would start there, it was a trap otherwise.

She had to stop every few feet to regain her breath, and as soon as she came to the toilet block she raced in, tripping over in her haste.

The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth and tears sprung to her eyes.

'Come on, get up, don't give in,' This time it wasn't his voice that filled her mind, but that of her Father's. Her Dad, who always emphasised the importance of never giving up. Abby wiped away the tears, and, squaring her tiny shoulders, pulled herself to her feet.

'We're here for you,' her mother's soothing voice comforted Abby as she pulled herself to her feet, and grabbed the note.

It was the same one as before, and she was cautious as she knew he could do what he did before - whatever that was.

She left relatively unharmed, and ran through the forest as fast as she could, branches whipping into her face. Blood trickled down her cheek, and she circled the demonic tree slowly.

She pulled the flashlight out of her pocket, and shined it's flickering beam of light in front of her, looking for the page.

It was on the opposite side to where she had found it last time, and she raced past it, grabbing it as she run. She was soon out of breath, but at least she had two pages.

Mary looked up from where the cold arms and tentacles held her. A figure was appearing in front of her, and she recognised it. It was him. The one who stole her brother's life, and her other brothers sanity.

'Hello, little one,' he murmured, crouching in front of her.

"Hello," she whispered, her voice small and broken.

'Do you know why you are here?'

"No," she answered, tears welling in her eyes.

'You've been chosen for a very important task,' his voice said calmly, and he caressed her cheek with his hand.

"What is it?"

'You get to help save someone's life,' he explained.

"How?" Mary asked.

'By giving away some of your youth.'

Mary gasped as the energy left her body, and she heard him give a deep sigh of relief.

'You are powerful. I could live off of your youth for years. Thankyou, my princess.'


	6. Chapter 6

Roger, Amelia, Leon and Arthur were in the police station, Roger being interviewed by a Constable. The hallway was white tiled, and pristine and too bright for the middle of the night.

Leon glared at his younger brother. Could he really call him that anymore?

He was a lunatic. He was psychotic. Could he be considered normal? Dark thoughts about his younger brother swirled through his mind, and his face darkened along with his thoughts, so that the two soon matched the sky outside.

This is Arthur's fault, he thought to himself.

He'd lost his sisters and Percy because of Arthur. Leon ignored the masochistic voice in his head telling him that it was really his fault, not Arthur's. Telling him that he was the one to blame, and the one who should suffer.

He did, after all, leave his family without telling him where he would be. He wasn't there to protect them. But that was absurd, Leon reasoned with himself.

He glanced up at his trembling mother, and felt a twist in his stomach.

'I fell asleep. When I woke up, Abby and Mary had disappeared, Arthur was like this and Percy was d-d-dead,' his mothers words echoed back to him, taunting him.

'It's all her fault,' Arthur's voice laughed at him. Leon clenched his fists, and closed his eyes.

This was his mothers fault.

Amelia stared numbly at both of her sons, and felt sick as Arthur burst out into hollow laughter once more.

"Shut up!" Leon yelled hoarsely, punching his younger brother. It took Amelia a moment to process the scene in front of her. Leon was attacking his younger brother, his fists connecting with Arthur's jaw, and then stomach.

It took Amelia another moment to think of how to react. Her instincts were slow, and sluggish, due to the shock. She had to process everything slowly.

By then Roger was already separating Leon from Arthur.

"You bastard," Leon spat at his younger brother. Amelia kneeled down, and wiped the blood off of her baby boys face with her sleeve. He might be insane, but he was still her son. Unconscious, he looked normal. Sane. Intact.

"You bastard," Leon whispered, collapsing to his knees.

The only sound that could be heard was the shaky sobs coming from Leon, and the dull sound of the vending machine dispensing a can of coke in the main foyer of the station.

Abby walked slowly through the dark forest, her eyes scanning her surroundings. She only needed 6 pages, and then she'd be safe, right?

She'd be back home, with her family, probably drinking her mother's famous hot chocolate, and eating chocolate for breakfast. Abby let her mind wander, until presently she was greeted with the sight of a truck, and behind it, what looked like a shipping container or something. She felt a spark of hope fly up in her, and she raced over to it.

She looked in, and screamed. Inside, a man stared up at her, his soulless eyes glazed over. His neck was torn to shreds, and yellow maggots crawled through it. He was dead, and clearly had been there a long time, judging by the way his now yellow and purple skin was decaying. His mouth hung open, and even in death he seemed to scream agony. Abby gagged and retched, but nothing came out.

She had nothing left in her stomach, except for a hollow feeling. She stumbled back, away from the vehicle, and circled slowly around the white shipping container. A triumphant feeling spread through her when she noticed a page loosely attached to it.

She walked over to it, tearing it off the container. It had 'Can't Run' scrawled on it, with a circle near the n on 'run' and a big black smear of grey pencil underneath the writing. Abby was circling back around the container when she saw him.

Her vision started to blur, again, and the darkness threatened to embrace her.

Without thinking, she turned away, and ran.

"You woke me up to watch, didn't you?" the girl asked into the darkness. She could sense him, over in the corner, and she took a step closer. Instantly he put up a barrier between them. It was almost like an invisible wall, trapping her on one side of the room, and him on the other.

'Yes.'

"Why?"

'I wanted you to watch,' he told her.

She nodded, clearly not satisfied with this answer. She sat down, and stared up at him. She was his prisoner, and although she did not know it, he was just as captivated by her. There were bound together, destined to live out the rest of eternity together. She had always been apart of him, as he had been of hers.

Ever since she first met him, back when she was only 8 years old, and he took her and her sister, she had been apart of him, and he had been apart of her. She was

"I was there, I don't need to watch it," she replied eventually.

'I know you were there, but you didn't see everything,' he told her.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He was silent.


	7. Chapter 7

Abby ran, her heart pounding violently against her chest. Tears streaked down her face. The dead man in the truck had left her shaken, and seeing him there scared her as well.

But that wasn't the worst part. The image of the dead man had reminded her of her brother. Her brother who she had only lost that night, and had already forgotten.

Why? She questioned herself. He's my brother. How could I forget him so easily?

Abby stopped running completely, and just stood still, her arms dangling by her side, her mouth hanging open in an 'o' shape.

Her brother. She couldn't remember his name.

"Why?!" she whispered. "What's his name?"

Silence answered her, and she felt disgust, and despair wash over her.

Grim horror seemed to weigh heavily in Abby's stomach.

"What was his name?" her voice grew in volume.

And still, bleak silence greeted her.

"What was his name?" she screamed into the night.

Nothing answered, and nothing never would.

Her voice cracked and lowered in volume.

"What was his name?" she whispered brokenly. She just stood and stared out into the forest.

Mary.

Her sisters name seemed to whisper back to her, and for once, it wasn't through his doing.

"Mary," Abby whispered to herself, almost chanting it. She could forget her brother's name, but she couldn't forget Mary. It was because of Mary that Abby was doing this. She had to save her sister. Her beautiful little sister.

"Mary," Abby said firmly, and started walking.

Mary's eyes opened suddenly, staring at the ground in front of her, her eyes wide open in shock. She was still held in the tenteacles cold embrace, and she felt weak.

"Mary," her name was chanted repeatedly, building in volume, as the soft voice of her sister filled the boundless grey room.

"Abby?" Mary murmured.

'Impossible,' she heard him mutter incredulously.

He was here?

She hadn't even noticed him. She still couldn't feel his presence in the room. What was going on?

Mary's thoughts were scrambled. She could hear Abby, who was clearly not there, but she couldn't feel him, but he was there.

Why?

"Abby!" Mary whispered.

"What's happening?" the voices whispered in fear. "Why is he quiet?"

Their terrified voices whispered incoherently, their voices echoing continuously through the cold room.

"Why can't we feel him?" they whispered loudly enough for Mary to understand.

'Silence!' his voice roared angrily.

The room was quiet for the first time in an eternity.

Abby stared at the large building in front of her. It wasn't really a building, just a tunnel. It seemed so odd, so out of place. But then again, nothing in this forest seemed to make sense.

She walked nervously over to it, goose bumps making their presence known. A hollow feeling lay in the pit of her stomach, and she knew something was about to happen. She didn't know what, but she could sense him.

She regretted her previous meltdown. Her screams would only have given her away.

She walked cautiously over to the tunnel, and stared down it. It was darker than everywhere else, and as she waved her light down the tunnel, she could just see the fluttering of a page in the cool night wind.

Abby walked over to it, her heart pounding furiously. She was close to hyperventilating, and she felt like screaming. The tunnel scared her, and her slight claustrophobia was somehow being exaggerated, until she felt like she would go insane.

She didn't know how this one tunnel could induce so much fear in her. It wasn't narrow, in fact, it was more spacious than the toilet block. But somehow fear rose in her, adrenaline pumping through her veins.

She stopped, and stared at the page.

It had a crude man drawn on it, made out of a few scribbles, and written in capital letters was 'LEAVE ME ALONE.' Someone had underlined alone with the slash of the pencil.

Abby reached up nervously, and pulled it off of the tunnel wall.

Without meaning to, she glanced behind her. Standing at the entrance of the tunnel was him. She froze in terror, as her vision began to go a lot like static.

'Run! RUN!' her brain screamed at her, and she tried to. But the terror of being inside the tunnel, and the terror of seeing him standing there paralysed her.

"Come on sweetie, you must run," a new voice whispered into her mind. Abby jumped.

It was the voice of a girl, encouraging her to run. But it was too late. Her vision blurred, and she was already falling to the floor.

His face flashed before hers, and her vision blurred and she blacked out.

Long arms caught her before she hit the floor.

The girl could feel his anger rolling off of him in waves. He was a seething mass, and she was suddenly grateful to the barrier he had placed between them.

'You interfered,' he hissed, his voice venomous. This was the first time she had ever felt anger from him.

He never got mad at her.

"I'm sorry," she said simply, masking her terror and shock well.

'Sorry?! You're sorry? You could have ruined everything!' She felt herself take a step back.

Squaring her shoulders, she stood up to him. For the first time that she could remember, she stood up to him. Her affection for him could not prevent her from helping the girl, or for standing up to him.

"I wanted to save her! She doesn't deserve this life! It's awful!" she yelled furiously.

His anger violently subsided, and she could feel his stunned silence wash over her. Was that despair, she felt as well? Despair and… hurt?

'It's awful?' his childlike voice questioned quietly.

"Yes. As much as I love you, I do not wish this life on anyone," she answered. "This constant state of nothingness. I have been alive since the beginning of man-kind, when you first started taking children, and I have seen the end of human civilisation. I know how everything ends, how everything begins. And still, I know nothing. You wont let me come near you. I can't leave this room, or whatever it is. I just wanted to help her. I will stay here, but she doesn't need to be in the same situation as me. I can't even remember my own name."

'You love me?'

"Yes."

'Why?'

"How could I not?"


	8. Chapter 8

Roger glanced numbly across the room at his wife. She was a wreck, wringing her hands nervously, tears streaming down her face. He doubted she even knew the tears were falling anymore. He doubted she was even aware of her surroundings anymore. They were in a cheap motel, the thought of going back to their farm was too much for them.

Leon was sleeping restlessly in the next room. They could hear him mumbling occasionally in his sleep. Each time he would call out, Amelia would jump.

It tore at Roger too, as he heard his only son left call out Arthur's, or Percy's, or Abby's, or Mary's name out.

Roger continued to watch his wife, sitting at the table. She hadn't moved since they had gotten there. Arthur had been left in the custody of the police, stuck in a barren cell, where he couldn't harm himself or anyone, until they figured out what to do.

The police were stumped. How could two girls go missing, a boy go insane, and another take his life, all in the one night? And who was this 'slender man'?

Roger, sick of the silence gnawing away at him, stood, and flicked the kettle on to boil. It was the early hours of the morning now, and he knew sleep would not be gracing him with a visit that night.

He picked up the remote, and flicked on the telly.

It was the morning news, during the weather section. The forecast was grim, to say the least, despite the reporters cheerful outlook on it.

The weather section ended, and he watched as they went through the sport section. It was all the usual. He watched them mention the same stories, over and over, and over, his thoughts whirling out of control.

Something he heard on the news caught his attention.

"Two girls have gone missing," the reporter said, her voice devastatingly serious.

Abby. Mary, Roger thought in shock.

"One is 8, the other is 5. The police are calling for help, begging the community to help look for these two girls," the reporter continued.

On the screen, A photo of Abby and Mary showed, and Roger did a double take.

"One of the brother's of the girls sadly, took his life the same night. The other is currently being held in a psychiatric ward."

Arthur's words to Amelia echoed back to Roger.

'If you hadn't have fallen asleep, I would still be sane. I would not be crazy. This, all this, is your fault.'

"There are no known suspects at this moment."

Roger glanced at his wife.

"Our prayers go out to the family involved, and if you have any information regarding the tragedy, please contact the number at the bottom of the screen."

A number flashed at the bottom of the screen.

'There are no known suspects at this moment'

Roger stared at his wife, trying to will away the dark thoughts.

'This, all this, is your fault.'

Words echoed back to him.

'No known suspects.'

The kettle whistled, and Roger jumped slightly. Amelia seemed to jump out of her reverie too, and stared at Roger in shock.

"Tea?" he asked grimly, ignoring the dark voice in his mind.

This is all Amelia's fault.

Leon woke with a start, startled by the voices coming from the next room.

"There are no known suspects at this moment," a feminine voice said, her voice brisk and informative.

He assumed it was the TV.

"Our prayers go out to the family involved, and if you have any information regarding the tragedy, please, contact the number at the bottom of the screen," he heard.

Leon glanced at the ceiling.

"Prayers don't do shit," he whispered to himself miserably.

The sound of the kettle boiling could be heard from his room. It reached it's high pitched crescendo, and he heard his fathers voice float through the wall to Leon's room.

"Tea?"

Leon blocked out all other noise, letting his mind go blank. It didn't stay blank for very long, as thoughts of his siblings swirled wildly through his mind, breaking down the barrier he had put up broke like a flimsy piece of paper.

Even though technically Arthur was still alive, Leon felt as if his brother was dead. He knew he was just insane, not really dead, but he couldn't help but feel as if it were both Percy and Arthur he had lost forever.

And maybe he had.

Contemplating the loss of his brothers and his sisters made him sick. He sat up slowly, dragging a hand over his face. No tears had fallen since his meltdown in the police station, and he had the feeling, no tears would ever fall again.

All his hopes, his dreams, had become irrelevant the moment he got home last night, and heard what had happened.

Digging around in his pockets he found his phone.

7:43am flashed on the screen, and Leon stared at it for a moment, a small frown forming.

His alarm should have gone off.

Why didn't his alarm go off?

He shrugged it off, and unlocked the screen. It was a touch screen, a Samsung Galaxy Y that he brought just last month.

Leon flicked through the screens, until he came to the Gallery icon.

His finger hovered over it nervously, and he stared at his phone.

Should he look at it?

Was it worth it, this self-abuse he was going to induce upon himself?

Probably not.

But he tapped on the gallery icon regardless, and opened up the camera photos. He flicked through it. Pictures one of his female friends had taken flashed on the screen.

It was from yesterday.

He was smiling, and laughing, and looked happy. He looked like absolutely nothing was wrong. And when the photo had been taken, he did truly believe that.

Leon sighed miserably, and flicked through the photos. Finally he came to the ones he wanted. Abby smiled a small smile up at the camera, her blond hair curled, surrounding her like a golden halo.

Next to her, Mary grinned that mischievous grin of hers only little kids can do, her dark brown hair falling straight.

It was taken only the other week.

He flicked to the next picture. Arthur and Percy grinned up at him.

He'd taken these pictures to show the Italian exchange student, after she asked if he had any siblings. She was a pretty girl, with dark brown hair, smooth caramel skin, and wide brown eyes that just screamed innocence.

He was attracted to her then, but now, all he felt was nothing. He was numb.

He swiped the page to the next picture.

All four of his siblings grinned up at him. Arthur and Percy were grinning wickedly, as they gave their two younger sisters bunny ears. Abby smiled solemnly at the camera. She was always so serious. Mary wore that same grin that seemed to be permanently stuck on her face, and that she always wore when someone took her photo.

But something in the distance caught his eye. Something in the back of the photo, barely visible. But it - whatever it was - was definitely there.

Leon frowned. What was it?

It looked vaguely humanoid, a long, disproportionately slender man, suspended on tentacles.

He couldn't really see much, and he pulled the photo out with his fingers, zooming in on it.

The only thing truly discernible was the vivid red tie.

It stood out against the rest of the dark background. Leon frowned.

Something Arthur had said echoed back to him.

'Percy shot himself,' Leon's father had said.

'Not Percy, the Slender Man,' Arthur had corrected in a sing-song voice.

The Slender Man.

Was this him?

Leon shrugged away that thought. It left him feeling hollow and slightly disconnected.

But a strong sense of foreboding seemed to settle on Leon, even as he sunk back down to his bed, letting the comfort of sleep overwhelm him.


	9. Chapter 9

Abby woke slowly. She stared up at the sky, frowning slightly. How much time had passed? The night sky seemed to be darkening even further, and she felt her frown disappear as she looked up at the twinkling stars.

They winked at her, and she felt as if they were inviting her to play with them.

She sighed in content. Maybe she should just stay here, and let him take her. Maybe she should just give in. It would make everything a lot easier.

'What about your sister?' he seemed to whisper in her mind. 'Do you want to know what happens to her if I take her?'

"What happens?" Abby asked aloud, her voice filled with complacent curiosity. She didn't think it would be anything bad. Not when it was Mary.

Mary was adorable. Everyone loved her. Abby pushed out the small worm of jealousy trying to gnaw its way into her, but her weak attempts failed.

Why should she care? Mary was the favourite. If Mary was gone, Abby would be the favourite. Everyone would love Abby.

'But you'd be gone as well,' he pointed out.

Abby nodded, her face twisted in a bitter smile, one so unnatural for such a young girl to have.

They would miss Mary more than me, she thought to herself. She just wanted to be loved as much as Mary was.

'You will be,' he told her, his voice reassuring, and, as shocking as it was to her, kind.

Abby frowned, but stood up.

What did he mean? She questioned herself.

Abby started walking, her forehead creased. What did he mean? How did he know that she would be just as loved?

The dark forest yielded no answers, and she pondered over what he had said. She'll be loved.

'You'll be loved even more, my dear.'

He watched her with a strange longing. He didn't quite get this feeling inside him, even though it had been accompanying him since the beginning of time. This feeling, it was worse than the pain that constantly accompanied him.

The pain that he always felt paled in comparison.

Looking at the girl, with the big blue eyes, and the blond curls, he saw two different images. He saw her as she was now, that image had the most solidity, her in her dress that she had been wearing when he took her, with it's white ruffles along the hem, now a dirty brown colour. He was following her, always had been, always would be. He was mildly curious towards the girl, but that was all.

Standing, no, towering over her, was another image. A tall girl with blonde hair that reached to her waist, and when she looked towards him, big blue eyes looked him over.

As the eyes stared into where his should be, he felt the pain momentarily disappear. He knew how this would play out. This had been happening for centuries.

The girl wouldn't find the last page, he would take her, and that was how she became a part of him, travelling through the time planes with him.

The older version knew that too. The two images were the same girl, although he felt nothing for the younger version. It was her older self which he craved. Her older self which he had fallen in love with. He had shown her everything. He showed her the beginning of man kind, what they descended from, and he had shown her the end of mankind, as their global anarchy sent them to their demise, and everything in between.

And yet, he had never shown her himself.

Abby wandered around aimlessly. As she knew she would, she eventually came to the tree. She circled it warily, snatching the page as soon as she could. She felt like she was stuck in a rut. Like she had done this a million times over.

She was almost ready to give in.

She kept wandering, knowing the direction she was going in wouldn't take her to where she knew the other pages were. But still she kept going, her eyes watching the forest either side of her.

Eventually, she knew she had passed the truck with the dead man in it, although she hadn't yet seen it. She knew she had walked past the toilet block. But still she kept walking. Maybe an eternity with him wouldn't be so bad.

She kept walking, ignoring the ache in her feet. She only had one page, and she didn't know how much longer the night would be.

It already seemed like the night would never end, like someone had stretched time.

Presently, much to her surprise, a brown ute appeared, and she frowned. A small whimpering could be heard coming from the ute, and she approached it cautiously.

She didn't want to see another dead body in the ute, but curiosity got the better of her as she walked over to the ute. She looked in the window, and let out sigh of relief when she didn't see a dead body. Instead, she saw two large doleful eyes staring up at her, and a wet nose.

Two paws scratched at the window, and without a second thought, she opened up the door. The dog leaped out of the car, and almost seemed to grin up her, it's tail wagging.

Abby smiled, and the smile felt unnatural, but she couldn't help it.

The dog was a Jack Russell Terrier, with a shaggier white, brown, and black coat.

Abby smiled, and rubbed it's head. It licked her hand, and Abby let out a small chuckle.

The dog had a beat up left ear, and scars marked it's nuzzle and face.

Abby walked around the ute, looking for a page. There had to be a page. There was always a page, wasn't there?

But much to her despair, there wasn't a page.

The dog trotted along at her heel, as she circled around the ute for the second time.

Realisation sunk in after the third time she circled around the ute. There was no page here.


	10. Chapter 10

Amelia didn't dare look anyone in the eye. She knew what they were all thinking. They were all blaming her. She did, so it made sense that they did.

She didn't move from her spot. She was vaguely aware of her husband on the phone, letting the relatives know, and getting Percy's funeral ready.

Eventually she felt Leon come out of his temporary room, and she glanced up.

He was sleep deprived, that much was obvious, and he fidgeted restlessly. He kept glancing at his phone, and then at the TV, and then to his father. He never once looked at his mother.

Amelia didn't have it in her to be hurt by this action. Even though the other day he would have greeted her with a peck on the cheek, and not even glanced in his father's direction.

She could feel the pent up anger simmering below the surface, and she knew Leon was close to cracking. And when he did, she would accept it.

She deserved it, for losing 4 of her children in the one afternoon. She should have never have fallen asleep.

She was hollow.

Empty.

Like her body was a shell, and what once occupied that shell flew away, flew away to a happier life.

She felt deserted.

"I'm going out," Leon heard his mother say, and for the first time that morning, he glanced her way, as the chair legs scraped against the linoleum floor. He exchanged a glance with his father.

"Where are you going to?" Roger asked.

"To the shop. We need milk," Amelia answered, her matter-of-fact voice mechanical.

"Milk?" Leon asked incredulously. Milk? How could she be thinking of milk?

"And bread."

"You've got to be shitting me," Leon all but snarled.

"Leon!" Roger reprimanded.

"How the bloody hell can you be thinking of milk at a time like this?" Leon yelled, dragging himself to his feet. The pent up anger that he'd somehow managed to hold back suddenly came crashing back to him, and sadly, to his mother.

"What do you mean?" Amelia whispered, her eyes wide with shock.

Leon glared at his mother, ignoring the fact that her appearance reminded him so much of his beloved sisters'.

"Arthur is insane. Unstable. Percy is dead-" Leon lowered his voice harshly, "Dead. Abby and Mary are missing. And there's every possibility that we will never get them back. And you're thinking about milk?"

"Someone has to."

"No! No, they don't, Mum! Not at the moment! We don't need any milk, or any bread. We need to find Abby and Mary, because you lost them. You fell asleep when you were supposed to be looking after them," Leon roared.

"Leon," his father said warningly, but Leon was too far gone. He had unleashed the beast that had been screaming to be let out for years now, ever since he voiced his desire to become a graphic designer.

And now, it was all going to come crashing down on his mother, despite the protests his sane side of him cried. Despite the fact that quite a large part of him was reminding him of how his mother had loved him, supporting him with all of his wishes. How, in her 16 years of parenting , she had never let him down, until last night.

How she had always been there to pick him up, dust him off, and give him a get-better kiss.

But, try as he might, he couldn't help himself. Because, no matter how much he loved his mother, he still blamed her. He blamed her for everything that had happened to Abby, Mary, Percy and Arthur.

He yelled abuse at his mother, letting her know exactly what he thought of her falling asleep and letting his beloved siblings disappear.

Guilt screamed at him to stop, couldn't he see the tears falling down his mother's face? Couldn't he see the violent shaking of her body as she sobbed, her sobs and cries filled with raw emotion? Couldn't he see that she wasn't going to protest? That she accepted this all calmly? That she also blamed herself? Couldn't he see the pain he was forcing her through?

And still, he yelled at her, and got a sadistic satisfaction out of seeing her cry. She deserved it, he reasoned, she let this happen.

But even though a tiny part of him was satisfied, a large part of him was disgusted in himself.

This was his Mother. His family. She loved him.

But will she now? He questioned himself. Could she love him even though he blamed her? Even though he had just yelled and screamed at her, calling her a bitch, and a murderer?

He hoped not. Not that he didn't want her to love him. He craved his mother's love still. He just knew he couldn't live with himself if she did. If, even after he abused her, she still loved him.

To be sure, he looked down on his sobbing mother, quenched the guilt roaring it's ugly head, and whispered three calm words down at his mother.

"I hate you."

He felt his stomach being torn out of his gut, or at least, the emotional equivalent, as his Mother looked up at him, her wide blue eyes shining with tears.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice filled with sorrow, and regret, and guilt.

Leon clenched his jaw, and looked away, to prevent himself from letting his emotions get the better of him. Because, in those blue eyes, he saw the love he so desperately wanted, but also wanted to reject.

Stiff backed, Leon turned. He couldn't look at his mother. He couldn't look at anyone.

Not after what he just did.

And then he walked out the cheap motel room with the dirty carpet and the stains on the wall.


End file.
